Disclaimer:I do NOT own Harry Potter, X-Men, or any other Marvel comic book character, and make no gain off of this story!

Burnt Genes

Chapter 1

Bullet-Resistant

"Get out here boy!" bellowed a very angry voice from the hallway, looking angrily at a door under the stairs. It slowly creaked open and a small boy with very messy raven black hair and dull broken green eyes crept out.

The boy wore baggy hand me down clothes at least five times too big. The boy, Harry James Potter, five years old today, shivered in fear because it is his birthday. He can't stand his birthday. His birthday hurts… a lot.

Vernon Dursley, his fat, large, bloated uncle stood red-faced with rage, glaring hate at his freak nephew, holding a thick leather belt. Vernon grabbed his skinny good for nothing house parasite by the arm, dragging him clear from his cupboard viciously yanking his arm.

His belt arm came up, with a vicious grin he saw Harry wince and the belt slammed into his face. The young boy cried out weakly as he fell to the floor. Vernon Dursley maliciously beat his nephew repeatedly with his belt occasionally kicking him as he curled crying on the floor, blood leaking from his split lips.

Harry was aching and cried out, limp and seemingly lifeless by the time he was thrown back into his cupboard. He was bruised all over and bleeding but for his first ever birthday, his pain felt numb, and he was sure nothing was broken.

He could taste the copper from his blood and felt dizzy, tired, and drained. However, no matter the heroes he has heard his cousin praise from the picture box… no hero came to rescue him. Though, in all fairness his aunt and uncle hated these 'freaks' that pop up from time to time saving lives.

Every birthday since he could remember, his uncle for a birthday present beat him for being a burden. Harry wondered why they don't just get rid of him; give him to someone else, someone, nice? Then, maybe there is no one nice who would look after him… care for him. Nobody cares.

For along time he had seemed to heal too fast. It's both a blessing, and a curse. It's a blessing because his pain won't last too long. However, it's a curse because its 'freaky' and he'll be punished for it as if he has any control. He has had to grow up faster than normal children because of the way his family treats him.

They force him to work the garden, fold the laundry, make beds, and even clean up after his cousin Dudley. His aunt has even started forcing him to lean to cook so he can prepare meals for his ungrateful relatives. He would have dreams, dark dreams where he would hurt them, strangle them, torment and torture them. He had leant too much in his short five years of life… too much hate and anger without the power to let it out on those he has grown to hate.

His anger at the Dursley's could only be surpassed by his anger for this 'Old Man'. His aunt has ranted and raved about how much she hates this 'freak' for dumping Harry on their doorstep and forcing them to take him in. Harry was quick to realise they're afraid of this 'Old Man', and he is also to blame for Harry's hell.

This 'Old Man' Harry knew he should always look out for. This 'Old Man' deserves his hate, and Harry wouldn't forgive anyone who would love to see a child of any kind tormented and beaten.

Harry knew his damage would be gone in a few days if his aunt, uncle and cousin leave him long enough to heal. Though, he wonders why he wants to live so much. He certainly doesn't get fed enough to at least say he is healthy. He's always hungry, and thirsty, and smells bad a lot too, like blood and sweat.

He just lay quietly on his mattress thinking, well, that's all he ever has to do, wincing as he rolled over. He winced a little with his mind running over being strong enough to hurt his uncle in return.

Sighing he wished he was allowed to go to school like his fat cousin Dudley; maybe he would be able to understand his own mind and suffering if he was educated.

However, they didn't want anyone to know about the freak, why he's a freak he may never know. He had a feeling he may die here someday in this cupboard, probably starve to death. Thinking about food makes him feel sick with need, but he's not even sure whether he would ever be able to eat a normal portion without being sick.

Two years later…

"Boy get out here!" yelled his angry uncle. Seven-year-old Harry Potter crept out of his cupboard for his inevitable birthday beating when he noticed something was wrong.

His uncle held a small metal thing he remembered seeing once on TV. He thought it was called a gun. His uncle pointed it at him a smug sneer on his face. "I've finally convinced your aunt to let me get rid of you, boy!" he said in absolute joy. "Those freaks wont do anything… the Old Man is just bluffing!"

He chuckled as he looked down at the boy with a sneer. "That's right. This freak like you has been threatening us to keep you… we can do whatever we like but you must live. Well, I say tough luck you disgusting little freak!"

Harry gulped staggering back down the hall; a loud bang exploded from the gun in a flash. Harry took in a sharp breath of shock as he felt a sharp pain crash against his chest. Time seemed to slow down as he cried out as he felt the hot metal. It shredded his rag of a 'white' tee shirt in a flash of blue.

The impact hurt as he was sent crashing through a badly made partition wall into the kitchen. He was gasping for breath as he sat up and looked at his chest with wide frightened eyes glowing with blue cloudy energy. He looked to his chest to see a huge bruise of red and black, and it hurt a lot, but other than that his skin had a slowly fading blue tint to it just around and through the wound.

He fired the last of his bullets but each time Harry staggered back on his butt with a cry of pain as this blue light thread through his skin and the bullet was deflected, leaving but horrible looking bruises forming, one even hitting his right check.

Harry had tears of fear, pain and panic running from his eyes as he fought through his pain and to his bare feet whimpering as he looked at how much more this made his uncle angry.

"Boy, just DIE!" Vernon screamed as he charged at the seven-year old.

Harry stumbled back until he backed up into the breakfast bar and without thinking grabbed a stool and picked it up without effort. He would later note the blue sparkles in his skin as he slammed the stool into his uncle so hard Venom crashed into the sink and to the floor crumpled and crying, blood leaking from his face.

Harry just stared at his mangled and whimpering uncle in awe, the stool slipping with a clutter through his fingers, as the man looked up at him in fear. Harry for the first time in his life relished in the misery of someone who caused him so much pain.

"It looks like I'm not the weak little freak anymore doesn't it uncle," he spoke with a soft, croaky, underused voice. He didn't speak much but just listening had made his vocabulary very impressive for a child as young as him. "I hate you," he spoke even quieter just as the water pipe came loose from the broken sink and started spraying water all over his uncle and the kitchen. "I HATE YOU!" he yelled the windows and all the glass in the kitchen shattered to pieces while his uncle flinched as if he was hit, actually crying.

"I… I never want to see you again," Harry said feeling drained and tiered, but knew he couldn't let that stop him from leaving. If he falls a sleep here he may never wake up when his aunt gets home and murders him.

He then turned around and quickly pulled the locked backdoor from its hinges and ran outside after throwing the door down. He looked up at the stars, something he has many times now because his aunt only lets him garden at night. Though, thinking about that, that should have seemed odd if any of the neighbours cared, which they probably didn't.

However, now he's free, he can truly leave, to see the stars whenever he wants and to really be able to see the sun would be a wonderful miracle. It was with a start that he finally realised he felt odd, and looking around his eyes widened in shock and awe.

He had a blue aura threading in and through his being, flowing around him like a warm protective blanket. However, it was the fact he was floating above the rooftops of this street he has never left since he was dumped, above the house he had only left during the night, and only to the garden.

Harry felt so free in the sky… light and relaxed. It was like a how he imagined a home should be. It felt so delightful, like when his aunt couldn't stand his smell any longer and allowed him five minutes in the shower. Though, she wouldn't let him use hot water.

He leant back to look at those stars twinkling away, so free, so incredible, but looking at his glowing light he realised he is free. It happened then, for the first time ever, Harry James Potter smiled before he shot off higher into the sky. It felt so natural, so easy, like his arms, legs, or maybe invisible wings he always knew were there, but until now forgot how to use.

Then with a whoop for joy and a few loop the loops he blast off not caring where he was going as long as he is free from the Dursley's. He blast with a sonic boom leaving a short blue trail, and a fading blue ring, the sign of his boom, as he headed off to find his destiny.

0oo00oo0

Across the Atlantic Ocean, in America, New York, Professor Charles Xavier gasped as he sat in a large chamber with a weird looking metal helmet on facing a computer panel, pulling the helmet off. He shook his bald head clear in worry. He moved his wheelchair back a bit to look to his fourteen year old red haired assistant, Jean Grey.

"What's wrong professor," she asked looking to him in concern.

Xavier frowned in thought, shuddering. "I found a boy… a powerful boy."

Xavier chuckled lightly while shaking his head. "I'm not sure exactly what his powers are," he said looking thoughtful. "I just know that whatever it is grants him enhanced strength and the ability to fly… he's a strange one that's for sure."

"Umm… so Professor, are we going to go and see him for ourselves," she asked hopefully. "Then we can speak to his family, and maybe he'll be allowed to come to school here."

"Family shouldn't be an issue, and it's more like live here permanently," he said with a sigh as he controlled his electric wheelchair down the walkway of the huge chamber with her quickly following looking worried. "We have to leave straight away," he finished in a hurry as he sent out a psychic call for Storm to come along.

"B-but what's wrong?" she asked worriedly as she hurried to keep up. "Is he OK… he isn't hurt is he?" she asked anxiously.

0oo00oo0

Harry had flown to a huge dark park somewhere. He wasn't sure where but he was thrilled with all the large trees he had pushed down and the smell of the sea. He had never dreamt that he would ever see the beautiful ocean in person. It's a magnificent sight.

He stood atop a huge cliff face with the dark water crashing into the rocks down below. He took several deep breaths, breaths that told him he is free. He can see the ocean any time he wants now and it would be fabulous.

Looking back to the few trees he fell just to test his strength he felt bad for them, like he was like his uncle, a bully. No… he'll be nothing like him, he'll never torment innocent kids, and looking closer he felt thankful that he had pulled the trees out by their roots.

Harry smiled softly at this as it felt natural to just pick up each tree and replant them. It was a little tricky patting the dirt down while making sure the trees don't fall back down. It made him feel so much better setting right the mess he made by replanting those trees.

After he had finished he sat holding his knees up to his chest, shivering a little and looking out to see. He didn't know how he knew, but he just did. The sun would show itself from the direction he's looking when the morning comes.

He waited and waited, keeping himself awake for hours when he first saw a glimpse of it. He saw reds, yellows, and oranges before that stunning hallow of green. He had to shield his eyes when the green faded away and the world around him brightened brilliantly.

Harry was mesmerised by the heavenly sight and felt privileged to see this magnificent sight. It was spectacular, amazing, and other words he didn't know yet, his jaw was wide open in delight, and it was a sight he would never forget.

He suddenly jumped to his feet startled as he heard some kind of engine and looked around until finally up. His eyes widened impossibly as he saw a sleek black aeroplane then coming down from the sly. It opened at the bottom and wheels came out as it touched down, its engine cutting out.

Harry watched the strange craft cautiously and readying to runaway at any moment for a minute or so when some side doors opened and a ramp lowered. He watched as a white haired black woman walked down with a bald guy in a wheelchair and a red haired girl behind them.

The red haired girl couldn't contain a gasp as she looked at him with her eyes wide in horror. They move d cautiously closer to him before stopping and the black woman gave him a kind smile.

"Hello there child," she spoke with such a soft and kind voice. Harry had never known anyone could use such a nice tone with him. "My name is Ororo Munroe, and this is Professor Charles Xavier, and Jean Grey, a student of ours."

"Student?" he asked softly perking up a little and looking the red-haired girl over in surprise, his expression black but his eyes told of his curiosity. "You really go to school?" he asked, his voice still quiet.

"I-I sure do," she said with a soft smile as she held back from daring to enter his mind even by accident as she took in how filthy he is and the holes in his clothes. She had to hold back a wince at all his bruises and the burns in his clothes and the blotchy blisters that seemed to still be fading from his skin.

"Would you like to go to school?" she asked him looking hopeful.

He nodded quickly before stopping, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "My aunt and uncle would never allow such things for a freak like me," he commented nonchalant making them wince before he seemed to start, his look, thoughtful. "But those fuckers…!" he said hoping he used the bad word correct. "Are of no care to me… I hate them," he said those last three words with a small smile as he stamped his foot on the rock causing it to crack.

"You won't have to see them again," Charles quickly said with a comforting look. Harry felt himself calming down but couldn't quite figure out why he fell so much more relaxed. "I am a telepath, Harry… this means I can see inside someone's mind, and I can even help for someone to calm. If you continue stamping on the ground like that you could cause the ground to give way and for us and the jet to fall into the ocean."

"Oh," he replied looking thoughtful. "T-this is how you know my name, and how you-you found me… why?"

"We came here to help you," Ororo said kindly as she crouched down a little to be more eye to eye with Harry. "Professor Xavier opened a boarding school long ago to help people like us… special people with special abilities. I myself can control the weather, and Jean's powers are similar to the Professor's but she can also move things with her mind…"

She paused as the red head made gentle gestures with her hand and a hand sized stone levitated in front of him to his surprise. He was awed as he waved his hands around it checking for strings. Jean giggled a little as she watched this and Harry let a small smile align his lips as he plucked it out of the air and felt its weight.

"I… I can break stuff," he said crushing the stone and letting the pieces fall to the ground, though it hurt his hand a little. "I can fly too… I… I thought I was the only freak… but you can do freaky things too."

"You are not a freak," Jean suddenly said commandingly. "We're just different… we're… we're more than just normal humans now. There is nothing wrong with us, and there is nothing wrong with you. You're just a little kid!"

"What happened to you little one…?" Ororo interrupted as Harry had never been told off with such a tone before. It was worried, and concerned… for him.

Harry looked to her and frowned. "My uncle got fed up with beating me for my birthday," he said with a shrug. "He said that THE 'Old Man' had threatened them… I don't know how, but he did, for them to keep me alive, but didn't care about anything else. I hear this 'Old Man' left me on their doorstep in the middle of winter in the middle of the night. I'm going to find him some day and snap his neck like a twig!

"My uncle tried to kill me because I'm a freak…" he spoke whimsically as he had his first ever grin, but it held madness, but more importantly fear and heartache, his eyes alight with blue. "Bang, bang, bang…!" he whispered pointing to the fading bruises causing the three to look faint. "Then… I smashed him into a wall with a stool. He was hurt and I hope he dies!" he spat out viciously.

However, he hadn't seen it coming. He had been too distracted by his own anger and hate to see her. Jean had moved and hadn't hesitated in wrapping him in a huge hug pulling him into her arms. He had tensed and almost threw her off him, but no, he relaxed. She had never hurt him. This is… he never knew how warm it felt to melt into a kind and loving embrace.

Harry felt hot tears flowing from his eyes down his cheeks and couldn't stop the shaky breaths as he tried to calm himself down. "Harry," Xavier gently interrupted but Jean didn't let him go. "We want you to come back with us, to my school where you can learn to control these gifts of yours, and lean allsorts of things children need to learn.

He sniffled a little as Jean pulled back giving him a reassuring smile. Harry nodded as he wiped away the tears on his arm trying not to look as weak as he feels.

Harry nodded and allowed Jean to lead him onto the aircraft leaving Xavier and Ororo to slowly bring up the rear. Though, Xavier stopped her for a moment and she looked at him in confusion.

"Harry's powers have not long fully awoken," he said to her in seriousness. "This old man Harry spoke about… I can just barely see him placing Harry on a doorstep with a smile. Harry's memories of that are limited as he was injured and fading in and out of consciousness. He seems to have been attacked by… I don't know… it was possibly a mutant. His last memory of his mother is his strongest. It was of her dying by a green light!"

"Maybe his parents were both mutants and his aunt and uncle know and hate him for it," she said in thought. "It's reasonable for anyone to assume that two mutants having a child together would give birth to a mutant."

"I'm not so sure that's it," he replied thoughtfully. "I believe it may be something much more than that. It would be best to take the children back to the mansion for now, and we should return sometime during the next week and speak with these… people, to find out the truth."

Ororo's sparked with white lightning as she smiled. "And I do despise child abusers!" she spoke rather hatefully. "After all the mutant children we have found to have been mistreated, abused, or just used for their powers."

Xavier nodded his head in sadness. "It gets worse as the 'normal' humans start to notice… the human race is evolving, and those left behind start to show how petty and jealous they are… even of their own children."